


old broken hearts and wind chimes

by strifescloud



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strifescloud/pseuds/strifescloud
Summary: Vincent’s hair was windswept, somehow even more dishevelled than usual, his cheeks visibly pink from the cold bite of wind against his unnaturally pale skin. He looked so beautiful and fuck, they had justflown, no ships needed, and that alone was enough to make Cid feel reckless.His hands moved to Vincent’s face as he leaned up to kiss him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> what's up lads im finally putting my money where my mouth is re: bitching abt the valenwind tag on tumblr being a barren wasteland and writing something myself so uH ENJOY
> 
> god its like 2am but proofreading is for squares im slammin that post button if i missed any of google doc's endless formatting fuckery with punctuation and italics im sorry

The Highwind’s landing after the battle with Ultimate WEAPON was a cautious affair. Cid settled the airship as gently as possible on a nearby plateau, ignoring the sparks that flew out of multiple places of the bridge.

Ramming his ship directly into the WEAPON midair may not have been his brightest idea, but it had _worked,_ damn it, and no one else’d had any fuckin’ suggestions.

Cid grumbled under his breath, giving a few sharp looks to the wary-looking pilots who seemed half-convinced that the whole thing was going to collapse on their heads. Too many damn naysayers on his crew these days, all of them undoubtedly ready with their _'I told you so’s_ and bitching about structural integrity.

As if _his_ ship couldn't survive a couple of knocks.

The last rays of the setting sun streamed through the circular windows as Cid wandered through the empty ship, illuminating the narrow path to the engine room. The landscape around them seemed to have quietened to an eerie stillness, as though no battle had occurred there at all.

They had landed close enough to Cosmo Canyon that Cid had allowed his crew to head off for the evening, accompanying the rest of AVALANCHE to restock supplies and enjoy a brief respite in the wake of their near-deaths at the hands of the Planet’s guardians. Cid alone had stayed behind, determined to at least get some headway while he had the time to spare.

The engine room was quiet and dark when he entered, the absence of the ship’s usual roar and grinding of gears making his footsteps seem far too loud to his ears. There was something indescribably melancholy about a silenced engine, he mused as he set down his tools. Wasn’t right to have her on the ground for too long. He’d have her ready to fly soon enough, and once she was back where she belonged the rest of the repairs could be conducted in the air.

Settling on the cold floor, Cid began to work.

Despite his singleminded focus and the harsh sound of metal against metal ringing in his ears, he didn’t fail to notice the soft click of footsteps approaching the door.

Strange. Everyone else had already left.

The sound slowed to a stop just out of view.

“Y’can come in, it’s just me.” Cid said, projecting his voice to carry across the room.

“Chief.” A deep voice murmured, just loud enough for Cid to hear.

“Vincent!” Cid called back, a wide grin spreading across his face as he looked up. “Ain’t you goin’ out to the Canyon with the others?”

“I have all I need.” Vincent replied as he lifted himself up one of the large metal housings that were scattered about the engine room. He sat on the edge, clawed fingers skittering quietly across the metal, settling in to the darkened corner.

Cid wondered if Vincent had always had such an affinity for perching.

“I came looking for you, actually.” Vincent said finally, crimson gaze tracking every movement of Cid’s hands as they wrestled with a sparking component.

“For me?”

“Yes. I figured you’d be down here. The ship sustained a great deal of damage.”

“Yep, well, when you slam an old airship directly into one of the Planet’s guardians, you know, shit happens.” He lets Vincent steer the topic away from _why_ he was looking for Cid in the first place.

Vincent had a reason for everything, but he was a damned cryptic bastard when he wanted to be - it was easier to just let him get to the point on his own terms.

Not that he didn't enjoy Vincent’s company, of course. Far from it.

He spent an awful lot of his time with Vincent, actually - they tended to share a room whenever AVALANCHE actually made it to an inn, and even when they didn't he tended to seek the other man out anyway. They had reached a quiet, comfortable understanding early on, unlikely as it had seemed.

Cid was hardly oblivious. He could be a damn abrasive bastard when he was of half a mind to be. He - and the rest of the group, probably - had been sure that Vincent would be clawing to get away from him at the first opportunity.

Cid was grateful, in a way, for Vincent’s patience with him. It was nice to have an ear to rant to, even if Vincent often gave off an air of being deeply amused by whatever grievance Cid had come across.

Vincent didn't have any room to be bitching anyway, Cid reasoned - he didn't say a damn word about any of Vincent’s fucking bizarre habits.

They knew each other well, Cid thought, though he was not foolish enough to pretend he knew Vincent half as well as Vincent knew him.

Vincent’s reticence was low on the list of oddities, so when he neglected to reply Cid simply let the silence grow comfortable between them.

“It’s too quiet when it's not running.” Vincent finally spoke, after what could have been minutes or hours as far as Cid knew.

“Sure is. It's kinda weird, but I guess I don't mind the peace every now and then. Engine noise I can handle, but sometimes the crew can get so damn rowdy, all yellin’ at each other and makin’ an awful racket. Makes it hard for a man to think.”

“I can’t imagine.” Vincent replied mildly, tone so deliberately dry that Cid had to look back up at him in outrage. The tiniest of smiles had crawled its way onto Vincent’s face, and despite his fleeting irritation Cid couldn’t help but feel absurdly victorious.

“Hey!” Cid began, unable to stop his answering smile, “What’s that supposed to-”

He cut himself off as Vincent turned slightly, curling into himself, the lower half of his face disappearing behind the oversized collar of his coat.

“Hey, now,” Cid began again, tone turning gentler, “y’got such a pretty smile, it’s a shame to hide it.”

Vincent was so damned beautiful all the time, to be fair - not that Cid was gonna say that out loud.

Vincent replied only with a pointed silence, staying still for a long moment before his metal claw rose to obligingly pull his collar down. He turned back to meet Cid’s gaze, the faintest traces of amusement still lingering on his face.

It was a good look on him, Cid decided. Planet knows he liked the guy well enough - perhaps more than he was willing to admit, given his status as the resident ornery bastard - but he was so fucking _grim_ all the time. He had good reason to be, sure - Cid only knew half the story, but even that half sounded fucked up beyond all reason.

The thought flitted across his mind, suddenly, that he wanted to give Vincent more reasons to smile.

“Pass me that wrench, there.” He said instead, because it wasn't the first time he’d thought something along those lines, but he’d be damned before he says a word about it. Vincent had been fucked over enough, he reasoned, that he deserved better than some failed pilot past his prime.

Cid veered away from that train of thought. Ain’t the time for a self-pity parade.

Vincent left his perch to retrieve the nearby wrench, leaning forward as he held it out until it was just within Cid’s reach. Cid took it from his hand - the flesh and blood one, this time - cautiously avoiding brushing their fingers together like one of those cliché romance novels Shera used to leave all over the house.

Vincent was notoriously touchy about personal space, anyway, and Cid didn’t need to go behaving like a damn teenager.

Neither said a word as Cid bent towards the next broken part, Vincent returning to his seat, letting the silence stretch between them beneath the creaking sound of metal.

“Hey, Vince,” Cid spoke first, an unusual hint of caution in his tone. He could see Vincent notice it out of the corner of his eye, spine straightening as the crimson stare sharpened on Cid’s face.

“You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but,” Cid began, trying to keep his voice even as he stared blankly at the gears before him, “what’s it like to fly?”

Silence.

“I know you gotta share it with your scary lookin’ all-powerful pal and all, but...you're still there, right? Nothin’ but sky above and earth below, wind rushin’ past your ears,” Cid rambled when the silence turned uncomfortable, still unwilling to look up, “not a tether to hold you down. Kinda imagined it to be...I don't know. Something.”

He still felt the ache in his chest, to have flown so close to the stars only to come crashing back to earth.

When he finally looked up at Vincent the other man was staring into space, a glazed look in his eyes. It melted away within a moment, replaced with a contemplative expression as he turned back to Cid.

“It is something.”

Cid leaned back against the wall.

“What kinda something?”

“We could show you, if you'd like.”

It was _beyond_ strange to hear Vincent refer so openly to the demons that shared his body, but even that observation was drowned out by the way Cid’s heart suddenly thumped in his ears.

“What-”

“Chaos does not mind. It's very boring, I hear, to be trapped inside someone else's mind,” Vincent tilted his head, as though listening to something, “and I believe they appreciate your well-deserved fear and respect.”

Vincent’s expression shifted as their eyes met, somewhere between amused and _fond_ , though Cid was not fool enough to believe it meant what he wanted it to.

“Vince, you don’t have t-”

“I would like to,” Vincent interrupted, quietly but firmly enough that Cid merely clamped his mouth shut, “and I confess, I do not often...fly around for fun.”

“Well, I, uh- _thanks_ , Vincent,” Cid said, fumbling for words but with the sincerest tone he could muster, “I'll see if I can get the old girl in the air first, but-”

“Of course. I'll leave you to it.” Vincent hopped down from his perch, cloak rippling behind him gracefully as he moved towards the door.

“Yeah- uh, bye.” Cid called after him, not wanting him to leave but too off-balance to ask him to stay, and though it was quiet as a whisper he thought he heard _thank you, Cid_ , as the red fabric trailed out of sight beyond the doorframe.

Somehow, the engine room instantly felt colder, darker, as though Vincent’s departure had taken some of the world’s light with it.

Cid leant his head back against the wall, eyes boring into the ceiling.

He was so _fucked_.

* * *

Cid, engineering _genius_ that he was, had the ship back up in the air within hours.

Shinra had no idea what they'd let slip through their fingers.

The bitter tone of his thoughts matched the cold bite of the wind that swirled around him as he took a long inhale of his cigarette. There wasn't much of a view - whatever the time was, it was fuckin’ _late_ , the dark cover of night shielding most of the landscape - but Cid stared blankly out to the East, illuminated only by the faint moonlight.

It was quiet again. The ship had briefly filled with life once more as the crew had returned, but everyone else seemed to be asleep save Cid, kept awake by the restless energy that had fuelled his dedicated repair to his ship.

He exhaled again, slower, wishing he could see the stars that hid behind the thick clouds.

“Cid.”

The cigarette dropped out of Cid’s fingers as he choked on air.

“ _Fuck_ , Vince,” Cid gasped as he whirled around, hand over his racing heart, “you scared the _shit_ out of me.”

Vincent had the grace to look ever-so-slightly sheepish.

Cid grumbled to himself, turning back to the railing and lighting a new cigarette as he waited for Vincent to speak.

“She’s flying again. You work quickly.”

Cid kept his gaze averted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Aw, hell, you know me. Nothin’ better to do except fix what’s broke.”

“An admirable passtime.” Vincent countered, and when Cid glanced back at him there was nothing but sincerity in his face.

Vincent stepped forward to join him, leaning against the railing and staring out into the clouded night sky. Cid allowed the silence to stretch onwards, comforted by its familiarity.

He had nearly finished his cigarette when Vincent spoke again.

“I came to fulfill my offer, if you're willing.”

“Ah. Now?” Honestly, Cid still hadn't thought he was entirely serious.

“Now. It’s a quiet night, and I would...prefer for this to remain between us.”

In a way, the trust given to him by a man so betrayed was humbling.

“If you're sure.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

Cid put out his cigarette on the railing, straightening and turning to face Vincent.

“I mean, uh, how do- what do I-” he stumbled over the words, suddenly feeling awkward in the face of Vincent’s inhuman elegance.

Vincent suddenly grinned, wider than Cid had ever seen, and under the moonlight he could see that the teeth were far sharper than usual.

“Hold on tight.” Vincent replied, only it may not have been only Vincent anymore as yellow eyes gleamed at him, black wings stretching towards the sky. Cid felt claws curl around his upper arms and suddenly-

He was _flying_. Not standing on the deck of an airship or trapped within the walls of a rocket - the cold air was rushing past his skin, feet dangling over the lethal drop to the canyon, no protection but for the cold press of Vincent’s claws.

They soared away from the Highwind, speeding over the dark crags and up, away from all the tethers of the earth.

They broke through the oppressive cover of clouds, and Cid’s breath caught in his throat.

There were the stars laid bare, as though he could reach out and touch them with only his mortal hands.

They soared higher, as far as was safe for an unprotected human form, and even though Cid knew the science, knew his limits, he almost begged Vincent to take him further, to the stars he had left behind.

Even as they descended Cid felt his heart lag behind his body, ever at home in the air.

Vincent set him gently down on the wooden floor of the balcony, releasing the vice grip he had kept on Cid’s arms.

Cid took one deep breath, then another.

Vincent’s boots clicked as he fluttered down behind him, wings audibly furling closed. Cid turned, meeting the glowing yellow eyes that stared impassively back.

“Thank you.” He said to Chaos, as clear and formal as he could make it sound.

The entity laughed, a hissing, grating sound that made Cid’s bones shudder, and in the time it took him to fight the instinctual rush of fear the sound brought the figure had already dissolved back into the familiar form of Vincent.

The rush of giddiness was back but Cid held it in, waiting for Vincent to adjust to his shifting bones.

Vincent exhaled once. Twice. Looked back up at Cid, expression inquisitive.

Everything Cid was holding in suddenly evaporated.

“Fuck, Vince, I- _fuck,_ that was incredible,” he managed, still sounding breathless, mind racing, “is it always- shit, I thought I'd done all there was to do with flying, but that was-”

He cut himself off, distracted by the sudden thought of _can I build it, I could do that every damn day,_ mind already filled with ideas and schematics that would likely never work but damned if he didn't want to try.

He reached out, putting both hands on Vincent’s shoulders.

“ _Thank you.”_ He said fervently, trying to impart even a fraction of the rush of energy that had reached his brain.

And something about that moment, staring into Vincent’s eyes on the deck of the Highwind as the sun just began to rise, made a strange feeling rise in Cid’s chest.

Vincent’s hair was windswept, somehow even more dishevelled than usual, his cheeks visibly pink from the cold bite of wind against his unnaturally pale skin. He looked so beautiful and fuck, they had just _flown_ , no ships needed, and that alone was enough to make Cid feel reckless.

His hands moved to Vincent’s face as he leaned up to kiss him.

It was brief and chaste, fuelled half by the vibrant energy of the moment and half by the tension between them that had been building so subtly that Cid had barely noticed it.

It was, in Cid’s opinion, perfect.

He released Vincent almost as quickly as he had grabbed him, limbs near-trembling from the fading rush of adrenaline.

Vincent was inhumanly still, eyes downcast, and Cid suddenly felt _very_ self-conscious.

Because it wasn't just the moment, was it? Because Cid, if he was honest with himself, _really_ fucking liked Vincent, as a friend and maybe more, and he'd never forgive himself if he’d just fucked it up in a moment of adrenaline.

 _Shit_.

“Shit,” Cid repeated aloud, “Vincent, I’m sorry, that was outta line.”

Vincent’s gaze flicked back up to meet his, expression contemplative.

“Yeah, I'll just uh- I’ll go. Thanks, again.”

He turned, preparing to flee to his room.

“Wait.” Vincent said quietly, just as he was about to leave.

Cid waited.

“I...didn't expect you to reciprocate.” Vincent began, uncharacteristically hesitant as he spoke. Cid pivoted immediately to face him, bewildered.

“You- _wha-”_

 _“_ I have cared for someone before. It ended…” Vincent trailed off, metal hand curling into a fist, a hint of his usual grimness returning to his tone.

“Yeah, I understand. And look, you don't owe me nothin’, if you’re not ready or if- there’s a lot going on, I know.” Cid began rambling again, voice betraying his nerves only with a slight tremble.

“I’m willing to try.” Vincent said, oddly decisive - as though he spoke not just to Cid, but to the things that haunted him as well. “I slept for a long time. I dreamt so long of memories, an endless cycle of my own sins, that even now that I’m awake they follow me still.”

Vincent took a single step forward, bringing himself back into Cid’s space.

“They are quieter with you. That is enough reason to try.”

Cid put his hand out, an open invitation, and Vincent grasped it with his own.

“Y’always do that.” Cid mused aloud. Vincent narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“What?”

“Things, objects, you’ll use your left hand. For people, it’s always your right.” Cid nodded his head down at the golden claw that adorned Vincent’s left hand. The metal creaked as Vincent flexed the fingers, the limb retreating slightly from Cid’s gaze.

“It’s a monstrous thing. I’d imagined others prefer to be met with a human hand.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” and it was hardly a platitude, as Cid had _longed_ to examine the masterful engineering of the piece since they had met, “just like the rest of you.”

Vincent took a long moment to look into Cid’s eyes, and found only sincerity.

He reached forward with his left hand, motion hesitant, and Cid still waited. It found the side of Cid’s face almost of its own volition, metal claws settling gently on the side of his cheek, and Cid did not flinch away.

Vincent leaned down to kiss him then, in answer.

The dawn’s light glinted off the metal as they pulled apart, Cid reaching up to take the hand into his own as he grinned.

“As much as this is turning out to be the best damn morning of my life, I haven’t slept in-” Cid’s eyes darted quickly to the rising sun, then back to Vincent’s face, as though they could barely stand to leave for a second,” -fuckin’ _forever_ , and if I start napping on the bridge my crew’ll never let me live it down.”

Vincent gave him that elusive half-smile again, and Cid felt another surge of triumph.

“I believe it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“When did _you_ see _-_ ”

“Get some sleep, then. We’ll talk later.”

Vincent pressed another kiss to Cid’s lips, light as a ghost, and then he was gone.

Alone on the deck, Cid exhaled loudly and pulled out another cigarette.

“God _damn_.”

He was a lucky guy.

And if his crew looked alarmed by his cheerful whistling as he walked down the halls to his room, well, fuck ‘em.

They still had a lot to talk about - Vincent’s issues could fill a damn psychology journal, let alone Cid’s own - but that could wait until _after_ he’d passed out in his bed.

He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and dreamed of flying beneath the stars, Vincent’s hands holding him safely in the air.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i was very nervous abt this one since ive never written for these favourite boys before so i hope i managed to keep them somewhat in character ahahaha
> 
> i know the chaos thing is a bit of a stretch, but i figure if ur livin for years n years with demons in your head you will probably work out some kind of accord w/ them
> 
> title from 'step into the darkness' by said the whale
> 
> as always you may find me at strifescloud.tumblr.com or @strifesodos if you like my Content or just these boys in particular


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